


The Jim and Bones Show III: Hitting the Road

by Space_AgeScribe



Series: The Jim and Bones Show [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Epic Bromance, Friendship, Gen, Tired Jim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 16:59:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8541316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_AgeScribe/pseuds/Space_AgeScribe
Summary: Jim Kirk has worked hard to get where he is in life; sometimes, too hard. When Jim's TV tour across America starts taking its toll, Nyota and Sulu decide that it's time to call in reinforcements. The result: "Damn it, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a baby-sitter for overgrown infants!"





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Background: This is a sequel to the first two stories in the Jim and Bones Show series. If you haven't read them, here's a summary: Jim's an up-and-coming chef with his own TV show. Spock, Nyota, and Scotty are part of the TV crew while Sulu is his agent. Jim meets Leonard McCoy when the doctor is forced to do a nutrition segment on his show. They've been annoying (read; watching out for) each other ever since. There are a couple of naughty words from the boys, as usual. Honestly, what are they like? Reposted from fanfiction.net.

Nyota Uhura slowly made her way from the group's table in the corner to the bar. It was her round; she knew what everyone else wanted, but she was feeling adventurous in her own selections tonight.

After ordering her drinks, a voice to her left said, "That's a lot of drinks for one girl." Ah, she was wondering where he had wandered off to.

Nyota rolled her eyes and tried to ignore Jim Kirk as he moved to stand beside her. He did this, sometimes, when they were out. It was an inside joke referring back to their first meeting in a bar in Providence when he was at culinary school and she was in media studies at Brown University.

"Does this mean you want a shot of Jack?" she asked with a sigh.

"Yup, and one for you. Your shot's on me," he said, grinning. They both burst out laughing.

As they waited at the bar, Nyota suddenly yelped as a hand grabbed her bottom. She turned an accusing eye toward Jim, but immediately realized that his attention was focused on the drunk guy and his friends who were standing behind her.

"Hey there, sweetheart," the lead guy said, winking in what he obviously thought was seductive. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing here?"

Jim groaned under his breath at the bad pick-up line while Nyota gave the man a blank stare and turned back to the bar. Drunk Guy obviously didn't take the hint.

"Seriously, I'd tap that," he said loudly to his friends. Nyota felt Jim stiffen next to her.

"Guys, she's got a boyfriend," he told them. "Leave her alone."

"Are you her boyfriend, Pretty Boy?" one of the assholes bravely asked. Nyota was getting a bad feeling about this.

"No, but I'm sure he would appreciate it if you'd leave her alone, as would she," Jim said. He sounded patient, but Nyota knew him well enough to hear the tightness in his voice.

"Jim, it's okay," she muttered under her breath.

"No, it's not," he whispered back.

"Look, asshole, there are four of us and one of you. What are you going to do about it?" Drunk Guy #2 asked.

Jim turned to them. "Fine, get a couple more guys and then it'll be a fair fight," he said, clapping the lead drunk guy on the shoulder.

Nyota closed her eyes and exhaled. This was not going to end well. "Jim. Let. It. Go," she muttered through clenched teeth.

"Maybe you should head back to the table," he told her quietly. "I'll grab the drinks."

However, when he turned back to look behind them, Drunk Guy #1 let loose with a right hook that sent Jim slamming back into the bar.

"Guys, knock it off!" she said loudly, but it was too late. Jim's instincts had kicked in and his fists were already flying. He dropped two of the drunk men with punches before the other two rushed him.

Nyota didn't dare get in the middle of the melee, but thankfully her other companions had already seen what was happening and had rushed forward.

Despite his slender frame, Spock was strong and managed to pull one of the men off of Jim while Sulu wrestled the last man into a hold so he would quit fighting. Spock and Nyota briefly exchanged a look. "We must get him out of here now before he is recognized," Spock said softly. Nodding in agreement, Nyota immediately grabbed Jim's arm and began dragging him toward the exit, stopping only to snag a handful of napkins from a dispenser on a table. Scotty met them by the door with an armload of jackets and her purse.

Within moments, the entire group was assembled outside the bar in downtown Dallas. Nyota shoved some napkins into Jim's hand and began dragging him down the sidewalk by the arm. The sooner they put space between themselves and the bar, the better.

A couple of blocks later, Jim had managed to cram some napkins into his bloody nose and Nyota was still towing him along at a furious pace. Wanting to slow down for a moment, he yanked his arm out of her grasp and planted his feet on the sidewalk.

"What the hell?" he asked.

Nyota turned to him, jaw clenched and arms crossed tightly over her chest. She and Jim ignored the rest of the group as they finally caught up to the pair. "What the hell were you thinking, Kirk? Do you realize how much trouble you could have gotten into? This isn't like when we were students. Now, someone could recognize you!" she snarled.

"That guy was groping you!" Jim shouted. "Was I just supposed to stand there and let him?"

"I can take care of myself, Jim," she said angrily.

"Well, I'm sorry for caring," he snarled back, pushing past her to stomp off toward their hotel.

Nyota pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, anger draining away at the hurt in Jim's voice. After sharing a quick glance with Spock and Scotty, Sulu moved past her to follow Jim down the street. Spock halted next to Nyota, not touching but merely lending support through his presence. Scotty hung slightly back for a moment. "Here, Love. You'll get cold," he said gently, handing her first her coat and then her purse.

"Thanks," she murmured quietly, not really looking either man in the eye. With a nod, Scotty walked away, leaving Nyota and Spock standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Was I wrong?" she asked quietly.

"Despite appearances, I do believe you did the right thing," Spock said. "You were correct that his increasing popularity from his cooking show means someone might recognize him when he is out in public. Bad behavior could have consequences for his career."

"To be fair, the guy was drunk and hassling me," Nyota said. "I'm sure he wouldn't have stopped me from walking away, though. The other guy threw the first punch, but Jim was egging him on."

"Normally I would credit this to male bravado, but you know James T. Kirk even better than I. He is fiercely protective of those about whom he cares," Spock said. "I am sorry that I was not there, but it does give me some comfort to know that others look out for you, as well."

Nyota glared at him for a moment before her expression softened. Normally she would snap at anyone who suggested she was any less capable for being a woman, but she knew that ever since his mother's death, Spock had held on more tightly those close to him.

She sighed and slid her hand through Spock's elbow. "We should get back. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

Spock nodded and together they walked the few blocks back to the hotel in which their group was staying. Tomorrow was the taping of the next episode of Jim's cooking show, and early the morning after they would fly to Chicago for yet another.

"Do not worry, Nyota," Spock said as they approached the front door of the hotel. "Jim will soon calm down. He would not hold a grudge against you."

"You're right," she said, smiling slightly. However, she knew Jim's outburst would bother her tonight. Hopefully it would all be water under the bridge by tomorrow morning.

~o~O~o~

The next day Jim carried on as though nothing had happened. The taping went smoothly, although Nyota felt as though there was a certain spark missing from Jim's delivery. He looked tired.

Sulu drove the group back to their hotel in the rental SUV after the show. Normally full of energy from the adrenaline after a show, Jim fell asleep against one of the side windows. The rest of the group was happy to let him rest while they quietly rehashed the taping. Nyota was feeling generous enough not to mention the drool that Jim wiped on the back of his hand when he awoke as they pulled into the hotel parking lot.

"Where do you guys want to go for dinner?" Sulu asked as they walked toward the hotel lobby.

"I don't care. I'm starving. I'd be happy with a nice sandwich or two," Scotty said. Everyone else rolled their eyes. Despite having worked on a cooking show for a couple of years now, the man would still eat anything.

The group continued to discuss their options but Jim broke away from the group. "I'll just get something on my own. Catch you guys later. Five-thirty tomorrow morning, right?"

Nyota nodded and bit her lip as she watched him walk away. His shoulders were a bit more slumped than usual and the Jim Kirk spark she was accustomed to seeing still hadn't returned despite the relief of another show finished.

Jim seemed edgy, like he wasn't quite comfortable in his skin. She had seen him like this before, but up until this point in their relationship she had never spent this much time with him in one go. Usually Jim could just go home and do what he needed to do to get back on an even keel. After traveling together for a few weeks, he probably just needed some time away from the rest of them.

She turned back from contemplating Jim's departure to find the others watching her. Spock informed her that they had selected a restaurant just down the street, so together they headed out to dinner.

~o~O~o~

"He's not in his room. Maybe he's gone out to work off some steam," Sulu said, waggling his eyebrows as the group reconvened in the hotel bar after dinner.

Spock quickly texted Jim, asking him if he would like to join them at the bar. A minute later, Jim's reply came through: 'No thanks, kind of busy right now. See you tomorrow at o'dark-hundred.'

Sulu and Scotty snorted, but a raised eyebrow from Spock meant they kept their speculation to themselves. "I just hope it's not another bar fight," Nyota muttered. Jim had calmed down and grown up quite a lot since his angry student days, but Nyota knew there were dark moments in Jim's past that affected him all the same.

Nyota and Spock stopped by Jim's room one more time before they turned in for the night, but there was still no answer. Jim had texted to say he was alive and well, so both tried to push down any worry. Jim was a grown man and could take care of himself.

Morning rolled around far too early for anyone's liking. At 5:28 a.m., Jim stumbled into the lobby dragging his luggage behind him, yawning and pawing at his eyes as he attempted to function.

Nyota glanced at him as she checked them out of the hotel and wrinkled her nose. She was pretty sure Jim was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

"Have a good night last night, Kirk?" Sulu asked, amused, as Nyota rejoined the group. Jim merely ran his hand through his hair and grunted.

"Don't encourage him," she warned Sulu as they waited for Scotty to make an appearance. "He might give us details."

While they waited for the Scotsman, who swore he'd be 'down in a bloody minute, ya mad bastards!', Nyota checked over the bill so any errors could be corrected before they departed. Idly, she noted that there weren't any premium cable charges on Jim's room, which was fortunate as she would hate to have an awkward conversation with him about reimbursing the company credit card for porn.

Scotty came flying out of the elevator a moment later, trying to shrug on his coat while dragging his luggage, carrying his phone in his teeth and muttering about the barbarity of the hour. After a few moments of juggling and Nyota gingerly taking Scotty's phone (and discreetly wiping her hand on her skirt), the group was on their way to the airport.

Jim began to show signs of life once they had checked in for their flight. "I e-mailed you and Hikaru a couple of things I was working on last night. I was kind of tired, so do you mind having a look over them before I send them in?"

"Of course," Nyota said as she put her carry-on bag on the belt for the scanner.

Twenty minutes later found the group heading toward their gate for their flight to Chicago. They dumped their carry-on luggage beside some chairs, and then Sulu and Scotty headed off to scrounge for caffeine for the group. Jim collapsed into a chair. Nyota frowned as she noticed slight tremors shaking his frame. Knowing she was the only one of the group who could get away with it, she gently lay a hand on Jim's forehead to check his temperature.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asked quietly. She could see a sliver of blue in Jim's eyes as he cracked them open.

"Mm-hmm," he murmured. "Jus' tir'd."

She thought back to the hotel bill. There hadn't been any porn on it, but there also hadn't been any room service. "Did you eat dinner last night?" she asked.

Jim stopped to think for a moment, then shook his head. "Guess I forgot. I was working in the business center at the hotel."

Nyota sighed to herself. More than once she had seen Jim work and party himself into the ground in an attempt to excel at everything. She just hoped things would hold together until the tour was finished.

Leaving Spock to watch over their things, Nyota went to the nearest coffee shop to buy a muffin for Jim. After being converted to the pleasures of good food by Jim, it was difficult not to turn up her nose at the overly-sugared, industrially-produced confection.

"You're kidding, right? You can't expect me to eat that," Jim muttered when she presented him with the muffin. Secretly she agreed with him, but Nyota stood firm that he needed to eat something.

Grumbling as he unwrapped the muffin, Jim nibbled a few bites and couldn't help but make a face. "This is vile and I'm eating it under protest," he complained.

"Noted," Nyota said without looking up as she sipped her tea and downloaded Jim's documents to her tablet. As she began to read, her brow scrunched. Beside her, Sulu was reading the same documents on his own device. He looked as concerned as she did.

Jim was usually a decent writer. Sure, having other sets of eyes helped polish his work, but normally he was competent enough that whatever he wrote could be sent off to various editors with the assurance that changes would be minimal. Today, though, the articles looked like monkeys had been dancing on Jim's keyboard. While both articles started out with some coherence, they had quickly descended into chaos.

"Jim," she said, exasperated. "Are you sure that you were sober when you wrote these?"

Jim rolled his head toward Nyota and stared at her blearily. He had given up on the muffin. "What do you mean?" he said, sounding hurt. "I didn't go out last night. I was working on these."

"Okay," Nyota said, turning away and locking eyes with Sulu. With a tip of her head, he nodded and they both got up to throw away their paper cups. They left Scotty playing a game on his phone and Spock sitting primly, going over the day's schedule.

"We need to do something," Nyota told Hikaru quietly. "He's working himself into a breakdown."

Sulu nodded. "No wonder he's tired. Did you see the timestamps on those e-mails? He sent one at 12:30 a.m. and the other at 1:18 a.m. Even if he went to bed right after that, he's got to be exhausted."

"If this has been going on for a while, it would explain why he flew off the handle at the bar the other night. He hasn't gotten into a fight in ages," Nyota added.

They looked at each other for a moment, Sulu worrying his lip. Finally, he said, "I think it's time to call in the big guns."

Nyota thought that was a brilliant plan. "I'm on it as soon as we arrive in Chicago."

~o~O~o~

Dr. Leonard McCoy stifled a yawn as he wandered back into his office. He had been in the O.R. bright and early this morning. After rounds and two successful surgeries today, it was now time for paperwork.

He picked up his cell phone to check for messages. He frowned as he noticed five missed calls from Nyota. Surely that couldn't be good. He was pretty sure all the details of his trip to Atlanta to meet the travelling circus were already sorted. Worry gripped him as dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.

"Leonard," she said, sounding relieved. "How are you?"

"Just fine, Darlin'," he said. "Seeing five missed calls from you has me a bit worried, though."

"Sorry about that," she said. "Everyone's fine. Well, sort of. I wanted to talk to you about Jim."

Leonard groaned. "What's the idiot done now?"

"He got in a bar fight the other night." There was silence at both ends for a while.

Leonard thought he must have misheard. "I'm sorry? What? Is he okay?"

Nyota realized how that must sound to Leonard. "Yes, he's fine. He felt he had to defend my honor and got a punch in the face for it. It didn't cause any real damage, though."

"Okay, that's good," Leonard said, wondering where she was going with this.

Nyota paused for a moment to gather her thoughts. "What has me worried is that he's been putting in appearances all day and then working all night. At best he got four hours of sleep last night, and that's being optimistic. He's in one of his manic moods where he's wearing himself down, Leonard. His next column is barely coherent, he forgot to eat dinner last night, and I'm worried that something's going to give soon."

Leonard's mind immediately began diagnosing and planning a course of action. What Jim really needed was a vacation, but that wasn't possible right this moment. The best they could hope for was for half a day off.

"Is there any way you can cancel some of his appearances so he can sleep in or something?" Leonard asked.

Nyota sighed. "You know he'd be the biggest opponent of that idea. If we did cancel commitments, he'd just use the time to do other work."

"So take away his laptop," Leonard said.

"You're welcome to try – good luck with that. He pitched enough of a fit when I made him eat something this morning."

"Well, it sounds like you need to do something," Leonard said. "God knows the kid won't stop himself until he keels over."

There was a pause on the line. "Actually, I was wondering if you would be willing to come a couple of days early and join us here in Chicago," Nyota said tentatively.

Leonard had figured that maybe she wanted him to call Jim or something. He hadn't expected this. "What?" he asked, just to be sure.

"He listens to you, Leonard, moreso than he does to any of us. Maybe your arrival would finally get him to realize how important it is for him to take care of himself."

Leonard felt his heart stutter in his chest. If he went to Chicago first, that would mean another flight that he hadn't been planning on taking. Shit.

He didn't realize that he was taking short, quick breaths until he heard Nyota's voice calling his name. "Are you okay?" she asked, concerned, as he mumbled a response.

Trying to calm himself, Leonard murmured, "Yeah, just not a big fan of flying. The kid owes me big time."

After agreeing to get back to Nyota, Leonard let out a deep breath and slumped into his desk chair. "Damn it, Jim." His heart was still hammering. Give him life-and-death surgery any day over this.

~o~O~o~

Leonard rapped on the door frame of Pike's office. The doctor motioned him in as he finished up a phone call. "Leonard, what can I do you for?" he asked as he set the phone back in the cradle.

"Just had a call from Jim's crew," he told Pike as he took a seat. "They want me to come out early because the man-child is running himself into the ground. Apparently none of the other idiots are capable of saying no to him."

Pike quirked a smile, reading between the lines. McCoy was worried – that much was easy to see. Pike had quickly come to like Jim Kirk, both because of his generosity to the hospital staff and the effect the younger man had on McCoy's disposition. But goodness knows the doctor hardly ever took time off, even now. He had been more than happy to assist Jim in bringing McCoy's daughter out for his birthday a month or so back, and he figured that the kid was practically family to McCoy now.

"That sounds like a good plan. Go be someone else's pain in the ass for a while," Pike said, turning to input something into the computer.

"Really? That easily?" McCoy said. He realized a small part of him had been hoping that work would prevent him from having to go to Chicago and take the extra flight.

"That easily," Pike confirmed. "You have surgery tomorrow morning, but after that there's nothing we can't handle."

Leonard stood, head still reeling from these developments. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem. Say hi to the kid for me once he gets his head screwed on straight," Pike said. "Oh, and McCoy?"

"Yeah?" Leonard said, turning around in the doorway.

"Stop by the hospital pharmacy on your way out tonight. There will be something waiting for you there."

The knot in Leonard's stomach loosened slightly. "Thanks," he said, genuine feeling behind his words.

~o~O~o~

The following evening Leonard stumbled off the airplane at Chicago O'Hare. Bless their hearts, Nyota had booked him onto a direct flight and Pike's gift at the pharmacy had been several tablets of Lozapram. Screw splitting the pills. Leonard had taken the entire 25 mg dose and had felt pretty mellowed out for being on a plane for several hours. He would rather have had a sedative to knock him out, but he knew he couldn't afford to be groggy once he landed. As usual, it was all Jim's fault.

He doubly blessed Nyota when he walked through the doors to the baggage claim and saw her waiting for him with a large cup of coffee. She handed it to him without a word.

"A woman after my own heart," he sighed, giving her a quick hug. "How are you doing, Darlin'?"

Nyota hugged him back fondly. "I should be asking you that. Was the flight okay?"

"I survived," Leonard said honestly.

"Thanks for coming early," Nyota said earnestly. "I feel like we've neglected Jim because we didn't realize how bad things were getting until a couple of days ago."

Leonard shrugged as he watched the carousel for his bag. "He's brilliant and he's good at hiding what he doesn't want others to see. He would've made a good actor. I'm glad you called."

Finally snagging his bag, Leonard followed Nyota out of the building. Their conversation paused until they were in the rental car and had exited the parking ramp.

"How much do you know about Jim's background?" Nyota asked, breaking the silence.

Leonard thought for a moment. Despite never shutting up, Jim actually said very little about his personal life. He knew the kid had been in Iowa for most of his misspent youth, but he had never asked why Jim had left – wanting to leave Iowa seemed self-explanatory to Leonard. He listened when Jim truly talked, but he didn't want to push the kid to disclose things he didn't want to.

"I get the feeling he's never had much support," he finally answered.

Nyota nodded. "All these years he and I have known each other, and I still know as much about him as you do. I remember his first job out of culinary school was at Narada under Chef Nero. All the recent culinary grads coveted that job, but Jim was really unhappy there. He was expected to be by-the-book and wasn't allowed to use any of his own creativity."

Leonard snorted. Knowing his friend, he could only imagine how well that had worked out.

"When Jim started Enterprise, he had nothing but his talent," Nyota continued. "He put that restaurant together on a shoestring. That's where I met Gaila; we both showed up to help him paint the space. Since then, he has built it into one of the best restaurants in the country. It doesn't hurt that he's good-looking and has a great presence on TV, but if he couldn't cook it wouldn't be the success that it is today."

"But he doesn't always believe that, does he? He doesn't think he's enough of a success," Leonard asked, thinking about how often self-doubt plagued Jim.

Nyota shook her head sadly. "That's why I called you. Yeah, the rest of us have all known Jim for years and been with him through the entire ascent of his career, but sometimes I think that in the back of his mind he wonders whether we do it because we have something to gain from him.

"Spock, Scotty and I get paid to make a TV show because of him. Sulu gets a commission whenever he books Jim somewhere. You, though – you didn't even want to be on the show in the first place, and you have a career that has nothing to do with cooking or television. Between you and me, I think you're the only person he truly believes is with him because you want to be and not because you want something from him."

Nyota's words made sense to Leonard, but he found that they also made him sad. Jim was a talented, amazing man and the best friend a guy could ask for. The chef was surrounded by good people and good fortune, but Leonard knew that deep down Jim had a difficult time accepting that good things could happen to him, much like Leonard himself.

"I have gotten a lot of good food out of the deal," Leonard said wryly.

Nyota smiled. "That's just one of the ways Jim looks after his people. He's deeply protective of those he cares about," she said, echoing Spock's words of a few days earlier.

They fell into a comfortable silence. Leonard stared out the window, thinking. If Jim hadn't been able to channel his intelligence and boundless energy into a career, Leonard shuddered to think about the path Jim's life would have taken, especially given the propensity the younger man had for finding trouble.

Assuming that Jim wouldn't mind letting Leonard sleep on the second bed in his room for a night or two, Leonard and Nyota headed to the room she shared with Spock to eat take-away while they waited for the rest of the crew to return.

"The episode went well today, but he's still missing that spark," Nyota commented as she pulled the lid off of her teriyaki chicken. Nyota had left for the airport right after the taping had finished, knowing that Spock and Scotty were more than capable of overseeing the meet-and-greet afterward and closing down the studio. Jim and his crew had received a couple of invitations from local chefs to eat at their restaurants, but Nyota was hoping the boys had simply grabbed some food on the way back to the hotel rather than networking as Jim had suggested they should.

Leonard eyed his burger. "If the kid's as exhausted as you say, it's no wonder," he said. "Even he has to sleep sometime."

Nyota sighed. "Yeah, it's been a lesson in planning for Hikaru and me, too. We've never done anything like this before. Everything sounds great on paper, but day after day of travel and appearances gets old quickly."

They had arrived in Chicago the previous morning. Spock and Scotty had gone to check out the studio space and oversee the unpacking of the set, while Jim, Nyota and Sulu had immediately launched into a new round of local and regional talk shows and a guest appearance on another cooking show. This morning Jim had given a talk at a culinary school before heading to the studio for the taping. He hadn't had time to properly prepare for the episode, but his crew had been proud and amused to watch him charm his way through it nonetheless.

Leonard and Nyota had just finished their meals and were sitting back to wait when they heard a phone ring and Sulu's voice in the hallway. Together they got up and went through the connecting door into Jim's room, flicking on the lights as they went.

Sulu gave a celebratory whoop out in the hallway as someone fiddled with the door. Before either of them could move forward to open the door from the inside, it opened a crack. Through it, they could hear Sulu saying Jim's name, sounding first excited, then concerned.

"Jim, what's going on?" he asked, starting to sound worried as the door finally swung open. Jim stumbled inside, not noticing that the lights were on and he was being watched.

Without hesitation, Leonard rushed forward as he eyed Jim's condition. Jim was hyperventilating, his skin pale and clammy. He was also sweating and held a hand to his chest.

''What happened?" the doctor demanded, looking behind Jim at Sulu.

Sulu threw up his hands and shook his head frantically. "I don't know. He was fine a minute ago."

"Did he eat something he's allergic to?" Leonard asked, although he was pretty sure of the answer. Jim's airway didn't appear to be compromised, and there was no swelling or rash.

He tried to lead Jim over to the bed, but the younger man's legs gave out partway there. Together, Leonard and Sulu helped Jim make a controlled landing on the floor. Taking Jim's face into his hands, Leonard made sure he made eye contact with him before asking, "Jim, does your chest hurt?"

"Can't … breathe..." Jim panted.

"I know, but do you have any shooting pains?" Leonard asked.

Jim shook his head no. With that, Leonard gently pushed Jim's head forward between his knees. Keeping a steady hand on the back of Jim's neck, Leonard quietly coaxed him to take deep breaths.

Looking up, he remembered that the Hikaru and Nyota were still in the room. "Looks like a panic attack," he told them quietly. He wasn't surprised. Jim always pushed himself to be better, but if he was as exhausted and stressed as the others suggested, his defenses would be hanging by a thread.

The others still looked slightly panicked. They needed a distraction, Leonard decided, and could make themselves useful at the same time. "Sulu, go get him a glass of water. Nyota, can you check the closet and see if there are any extra blankets?" he directed them. Both leaped into action, and within moments there was a blanket draped over Jim's shoulders and Sulu knelt on the other side of Jim with water in hand.

Gradually, Jim's breathing began to hitch and slow down. He still trembled slightly, but eventually he gripped the blanket more tightly around himself. "That's it, kid. Keep breathing, nice and deep," Leonard coached him, absently running a hand up and down Jim's back.

Once Jim seemed to have his reactions more under control, Leonard took the plastic cup from Sulu and held it out to Jim. "Here," he said, "drink some of this." Jim's hand shook slightly as he held the water and took small sips.

"Thanks," Jim whispered.

"Think you can get up now?" Leonard asked him when he handed the water back to Sulu. Jim looked like he was ready to fall over. The sooner they got the man into bed, the better.

With Leonard's hand on one elbow and Sulu and Nyota hovering on the other side, Jim got to his feet shakily. The doctor led him over to the bed closest to the window and sat Jim down. "Don't fall off," he ordered as he went to grab the medical kit he had packed. "Did you eat dinner?" he asked as he dug through the kit.

Sulu nodded. "Yeah, we grabbed burgers after the show."

Leonard knelt down in front of Jim, figuring it was as good a time as any to get to the heart of the matter. "So, what got you so worked up?"

He could feel Jim tense up under his touch, but it was Sulu who answered excitedly. "I just got a call a little while ago. Enterprise has just been awarded a Michelin star!"

Nyota bounced on her toes and clapped her hands excitedly while Leonard slapped Jim's shoulder in congratulations. However, Jim looked less than enthused and hunched his shoulders farther. He was still shaking.

They were all confused. Jim had mentioned to all of them at one point or another how someday he hoped to receive a star because it would be 'the awesomest thing ever'. He would finally feel like he had arrived. Instead, he was sitting on the floor of a hotel room, trying not to lose what little dinner he had eaten.

The way Jim dipped his head, Leonard could tell he didn't want to talk about it right now. The panic attack had probably drained him, and Leonard knew how much the kid hated having his defenses lowered. They would talk later, after the chef had gotten some sleep.

"Why don't you go get ready for bed?" Nyota suggested, picking up on the same cues as Leonard. To everyone's surprise, Jim quietly nodded his agreement and rose from the bed to walk stiffly to his suitcase.

Everyone else filed though the connecting door into Spock and Nyota's room to give Jim some privacy. Leonard grabbed his own luggage and tossed it onto the other bed in Jim's room while the younger man was in the bathroom.

Jim came out dressed in sleep pants and a t-shirt, absently rubbing at his hair as he dumped his laundry on top of his suitcase and wandered over to sit on his bed.

Leonard reached into his med kit and grabbed a couple of pills. "Here," he said, holding them out to Jim with his glass of water. "Take these."

Jim looked at them suspiciously for a moment. "What are they?" he asked warily.

Leonard sighed, exasperated. "They're vitamins, you idiot. One look and it's easy to see that you haven't been taking care of yourself. You look like crap."

Jim quirked a small smile and swallowed the pills. He sat staring into space for a minute, then suddenly straightened. "Bones!"

"Yeah?" Leonard drawled.

Jim looked at him as though for the first time. "You're here!"

Leonard snorted. "Wow, they weren't kidding when they called you a genius, were they?" He could hear snickers coming from the other room.

"Shut up. You know what I mean," Jim said, looking slightly embarrassed that it had taken this long to notice his friend's presence. It had simply become natural that when he needed help, Bones was at his side. "When did you get here?"

"Lucky for you it was before you nearly did a faceplant on the floor," Leonard said, dropping the sarcasm. "Someone needs to look after your sorry hide." Okay, maybe there was still sarcasm, but it was affectionate sarcasm.

Jim opened his mouth to say something, but a big yawn escaped instead.

Leonard chuckled and walked around Jim to yank down the sheets on his bed. Whoever had made this thing must have had a previous career in the military.

Jim was obviously drooping now and didn't complain as Leonard helped him into bed. His eyes shut as soon as his head hit the pillow, then suddenly shot open again.

"Did you drug me?" he asked suspiciously.

"You need the sleep, you idiot," Leonard said without remorse.

"You're a drugging meanie," Jim murmured, nearly asleep.

"And you're an infantile, overtired asshole," McCoy answered fondly.

Within moments Jim's breathing had evened out and his features finally relaxed in sleep. Shaking his head, Leonard shut off the lamp next to Jim's bed and muttered, "Unbelievable."

He wandered over to the peanut gallery that stood clustered around the doorway. He could see the relief on their faces as their friend finally got the rest he needed.

"I am not sure that was entirely legal," Spock said, hands clasped behind his back. Leonard opened his mouth to defend himself from the philosophy major who was always going on about logic, but Spock cut him off. "However, I do believe it was necessary."

Leonard rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks." It's not as though he were the person around here with a medical degree or anything.

"We're supposed to fly out tomorrow late morning, but I hate to start dragging Kirk around again when he's finally settled down," Nyota said. "Let me see what I can do."

"I'd appreciate that, darlin'," Leonard said.

After Nyota crossed the room to sit on one of the beds with her files while she made the call, Leonard spoke quietly with Spock and Sulu.

"So what was it that set Jim off tonight?" he asked.

Sulu shrugged. "He was tired and a bit crabby today, but he was fine until the Michelin star phone call. I got it in the elevator on the way up."

Spock cocked an eyebrow. "That is curious as Jim has often expressed that he would see such an award as a great accomplishment."

Sulu held up his hands in surrender. "I know, right? I'm still not sure why he reacted the way he did."

"Well, if he's really exhausted and at the end of his tether like you guys said, maybe this was just the final straw," Leonard said. "That sleeping pill I gave him was very mild and shouldn't have worked that quickly; his body was exhausted, but he needed to relax. You know Jim – he never does things the easy way."

The other two nodded with an understanding gained only through painful experience.

It was nearly half an hour later when Nyota dropped her cell phone onto the bed and sighed, flopping back onto the bedspread. "I couldn't reschedule all of us, so Spock, Scotty, and I will go ahead as planned while you three will fly to Atlanta on Wednesday instead. Oh, and Leonard? You guys are on a direct flight."

"Nyota, if you weren't dating Spock I would kiss you right now," Leonard told her, amping up his southern accent. He often wondered which computer store she had found Spock in, but he would never say so to her face. Somehow, she and the robot worked well together.

Nyota's smile brightened at his comment, and Leonard was pretty sure Spock straightened slightly in annoyance. He smirked; hassling Spock never got old.

"I'll cancel all of his appointments tomorrow and reschedule what I can," Sulu reported, already tapping away at his phone.

"Thanks for doing this, all of you," Leonard said, addressing the entire room. He knew that even this simple change in plan had created a lot more work for the rest of them, but he didn't feel too guilty since it was Jim's health at stake.

Spock nodded solemnly. "We do work with Jim, but he is also our friend. We do want the best for him, both personally and professionally."

"We don't mind, really," Nyota agreed. "To be honest, I think you've got the toughest job, Leonard. Getting Jim to see reason and take care of himself – well, I've been trying for years, for all the good it has done."

"He's an idiot with genius-level intelligence," Leonard said fondly as he glanced into the adjoining room at the topic of their conversation. Jim was sleeping peacefully curled up on his right side. "But he's our idiot."

He snorted and turned back to the others. "Look at us: an entire team assembled to wrangle one idiot."

~o~O~o~

The following morning found Leonard sleeping in until nearly nine thanks to the time difference. He had seen off the half of the group departing that morning and had grabbed a nice cup of coffee from a coffee shop down the block, slipping the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door handle as he left so that Jim could continue sleeping. Now, he sat in a chair by the window of their hotel room nursing his coffee and tucking into a novel he'd been meaning to read for a while.

When Jo was a baby, Leonard sometimes had trouble sleeping because he constantly wondered whether she was still breathing. Between him and Jocelyn, they were always getting out of bed to check on her despite having a baby monitor. He certainly didn't have that problem with Jim. There was no question the man was breathing the entire night – loudly.

Jim finally showed signs of consciousness at about 10:30, more than thirteen hours after he had originally gone to bed. Slowly making his way toward wakefulness with lots of yawning and stretching and grumbling, he nearly jumped when he heard Leonard's, "Mornin', Sunshine."

"Bones!" he said, rolling over to face the doctor. He scrunched up a pillow under his head, in no hurry to move from the comfort of his bed. "You really are here."

"Feelin' a bit better?" Leonard asked, scrutinizing Jim. He already had better color than he had the night before although he still looked groggy.

Jim scrubbed a hand over his face. "Yeah," he mumbled through a yawn. "Still kinda tired, though."

"Not surprising considerin' how run down you are," Leonard said without his usual snark. "The tour is almost over, and then you can really rest."

Jim's shoulders hunched slightly. The movement did not go unnoticed by Leonard. "What is it, Jim?"

Suddenly the chef found the bed linens very interesting. He poked at the corner of his pillow for a moment before sighing. Leonard sat patiently, letting Jim take his time.

"Once the tour is over, I have so much to do. There will be more episodes of the show to film, there are columns and blogs to write, my publisher is after me to get the cookbook done soon even though I'm still not happy with it, and then we've got to revamp the menu at Enterprise and I've got to spend more time in the kitchen there. I can't let the restaurant suffer because I'm too busy being a TV personality," he admitted.

"Is it possible to maybe get rid of some of your commitments, like the writing?" Leonard asked.

"I can't," Jim said with absolute certainty.

"Jim," Leonard said in exasperation. He had long ago figured out that his friend was nearly obsessed with proving himself to be better – at everything. "You can't keep carrying on like this. You're always working and you're not giving your mind and body a chance to relax and recharge. That's not healthy." He ignored the voice in his head that pointed out that regularly taking extra shifts at the hospital and counting bourbon as one of his closest friends wasn't healthy either.

Luckily Jim chose to play nicely and didn't outwardly support Leonard's conscience on the subject. Instead, he shook his head resolutely. "I have to do this stuff. If I don't, someone else will. It gets my name out there." The 'I have prove to everyone that I deserve to be the best' was left unsaid.

Now last night made sense to Leonard. "The whole Michelin star thing was kind of the last straw, wasn't it?"

Looking chagrined, Jim nodded. "I'm sorry about that. It's just … with everything going on, I was already feeling overwhelmed and then Sulu got that call. It's the most amazing thing ever to happen in my career, but it was just too … overwhelming."

It was no mystery to Leonard how Jim was feeling if the normally erudite man was repeating words. Jim felt like he was in over his head. Right now, he needed a friend more than a doctor, although he could use a bit of doctoring, too.

"Right, get out of bed and get showered. I'm starving and there's a diner down the street," Leonard said.

Jim nodded, then shot out of bed when he saw the time. "Crap! What time is our flight?"

Leonard kicked back in his chair. "Relax. It's not today. After you went down for the count last night, Nyota changed our flights so we don't leave until tomorrow. Today we can just hang out and rest or whatever you want to do."

Jim honestly looked lost at the thought of not having a day packed to the brim. Leonard took charge. "Go. Shower. Then we'll eat. Then, once we're full of greasy food and caffeine, we'll plot a course of action. Sulu's still here, too. I think he's meeting up with a friend of his from college right now, but we'll bring him in on it later."

Grinning, Jim said, "Bones, you make it sound like we're in an action thriller or something! I'll play the dashing hero and you can be my grumpy sidekick. Hey, you can even play a doctor since you know how to say all of those big words!"

"Dammit, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a grumpy sidekick!" Leonard said, pinning Jim with a glare and throwing an empty plastic cup at him. The effect was somewhat ruined when the cup failed to display any aerodynamic properties whatsoever.

With the first real laugh Leonard had seen from him in a while, Jim grabbed some clothes out of his suitcase and headed to the bathroom.

Soon, although perhaps not soon enough for Leonard's stomach, they made their way down the street. The diner was one of those places that tried to look retro but was all shiny and modern. However, the food was typical diner food, and there was lots of it. Leonard was happy to see Jim wolfing down his breakfast. Honestly, for a person who was at the center of the world of fine dining, Jim seriously lacked table manners sometimes. Still, he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth if the man was actually fueling his body for a change.

Jim was, unsurprisingly, the first to finish. After charming the waitress with one of his patented smiles, she refilled their coffee cups. Leonard took a deep breath. Now was as good a time as any. "So, Kid, let's sort out your life."

Jim huffed a laugh, but Leonard could tell he was still stressed. Jim didn't look up, instead concentrating on stirring a spoon through his black coffee.

"I'm actually freaking the hell out right now," Jim finally admitted. Leonard could see a slight tremor in Jim's hands.

"Yeah, if you look at everything together, it's overwhelming," Leonard said. "That's why you've got to break down the problem into smaller pieces. First of all, why does the Michelin star have you so worked up?"

Jim looked out the window at the grey Chicago day and chewed his lower lip as he thought. "I think there was a big part of me that always thought it would be something to shoot for but never attain. Now that I've got it, I'm in a battle not to lose it. I don't spend enough time in the kitchen these days."

"Or you could end up earning more stars some day," Leonard pointed out.

"Bones, do you realize how many people wait for you to fail with these things? It's like having a target painted on your back. As soon as someone in the culinary world reaches glorious heights, the vultures await their fall," Jim said, sounding upset.

Leonard thought that sounded a tad bit dramatic, but he wasn't going to trivialize Jim's worries. "Well, there's not much you can do about it except keep cooking, right? Let the vultures waste their time and energy speculating while you get on with your life. What will happen will happen. Just keep doing what you do best."

"What, prance around on television and smile my winning smile?" Jim asked sardonically.

"No, keep rocking the culinary world and sharing your love of food with people everywhere," Leonard said earnestly.

Jim contemplated that for a moment. Leonard hoped his friend took his words to heart, so he didn't complain when Jim said, "Thanks, Bonesy." It might also have explained his moment of weakness when he agreed to look over the manuscript of Jim's cookbook.

Over more refills of coffee, Jim and Leonard went through the list of things on Jim's mind, Jim listing tasks while Leonard interpreted the unspoken anxiety behind them and did his best to alleviate it.

An hour later, Jim's life was slightly more under control (although Leonard had a feeling Jim couldn't survive without some chaos in his life) and the chef and doctor finally left the diner to meet Sulu in order to wander around Chicago before an early dinner at a steak house Jim had been invited to by the head chef. Leonard had to admit that it was a different experience dining as a VIP, and Jim seemed to revel in it. As the restaurant began to fill for the evening, they said their good-byes and headed back to the hotel. The day out seemed to have done Jim some good, although Leonard could see that he was still on edge.

Back in the hotel room, Jim immediately flipped open his laptop and dove into his e-mails. As much as he wanted to chastise the younger man, Leonard bit his tongue and let him get on with it. Knowing Jim, not working would make him even more anxious. They would have to work on that; Leonard was well-aware of the irony of the sentiment.

Instead, Leonard brewed himself a cup of semi-decent hotel coffee and settled into a chair to read his novel. He made sure to rest his feet on Jim's bed. Jim gave him a suitably disgruntled look, which brightened up Leonard's evening considerably.

An hour or so later, Sulu strolled into the room. "Here, catch," Sulu said to Leonard; the doctor instinctively put out his hands but then snatched them back when he saw what he was supposed to catch.

"Good god, man! I coulda thrown out my back with that thing," he said in awe as he and Sulu stood beside his bed looking down at the ream of paper that was a draft of Jim's cookbook. "This couldn't have waited until we got to Atlanta so - oh, I don't know - I didn't have to carry this on a plane tomorrow?"

"Nah, where's the fun in that?" Sulu asked unrepentantly.

"It's huge," Leonard said.

"That's what she said," Sulu replied before tossing a purple gel pen on top of the pile. "Enjoy!"

Leonard groaned inwardly. He had promised his friend he would help him, and he wanted to do anything he could to help lighten his friend's burden. Jim said the cookbook was pretty much done but it was dull. He swore something was missing that would make it stand out from the hundreds of other cookbooks on the market. Apparently plastering Jim's smiling face all over the cover wasn't enough. Leonard would do his best to find that missing something, but it wouldn't be easy. Dammit, he was a medical doctor, not a cookbook doctor.

Sighing, he sat down and started paging through. He couldn't let Jim down now.

~o~O~o~

Around 9 p.m. Leonard got ready for bed, hoping Jim would take the hint. Instead, Jim barely looked up and said, "Feel free to turn off the light. I don't need it to work."

"Nope," Leonard said matter-of-factly. He knew for a fact Jim would work through the night if he let him, so he was putting the kibosh on things now. "Shut down the laptop, Jim. The light from those things will mess with your sleep patterns."

Jim opened his mouth to complain but Leonard was a father and knew how to give a Look. "Now, Jim. Don't make me come over there."

Jim obviously believed Leonard would come over there and shut the laptop himself because a minute later the computer was powering down. About two seconds after that: "Bones, I'm bored."

"Read a book or something. Relax before bed and you'll have an easier time falling asleep," the doctor replied without looking up from his novel.

There was a put-upon sigh. A moment later, Leonard found himself staring at the bedspread through his suddenly-empty hands as a certain brat snatched away his book. Leonard was about to say rude things when he realized that Jim probably hadn't brought anything else to read. Anything to get the kid to sleep - it was worse than getting Joanna to go to bed when she was a toddler. While Jim started in on his stolen novel, Leonard picked up the purple pen and the introduction to Jim's cookbook. First things first, he drew a hand with middle finger extended for Jim's later reading pleasure.

~o~O~o~

To Leonard's amazement and consternation, Jim accepted a mild sleeping pill. This, in turn, helped the chef to actually get a full-night's sleep before they had to get up at an only mildly-uncivilized hour the next morning for their flight to Atlanta.

While passing through the airport, the splash of headlines and gaudy colors of the magazines on display at the front of a kiosk caught Leonard's eye, causing him to pull up short. While he normally wouldn't give these rags a second glance, this time he grabbed it off the rack with a triumphant grin. "Why Jim," he drawled. "You didn't mention you were all over People magazine."

Jim turned back, wide-eyed. Sure enough, his blue-eyed visage was staring back at him from the top right corner of the cover. "Uh, I didn't realize it'd be on the cover. The interview was only a quick one."

"That's what she said," Sulu muttered loud enough for both of his traveling companions to hear.

"What's next? One of the year's most eligible bachelors?" Leonard asked, reveling in Jim's discomfort.

"Please don't buy one. This is so embarrassing," Jim muttered, keeping his voice down so none of the travelers walking by would hear them.

Taking pity on Jim, Leonard put the magazine back. His mom and Jo would want copies, so they could pick up one for him at the same time. Sulu, though, had no problem with annoying Jim. "It's part of my job to keep track of these things," he said airily, grabbing a couple of copies and handing them to the older man behind the cash register.

Embarrassed, Jim turned and began walking. "I hate you both and we have a plane to catch. I hope you both miss it."

McCoy and Sulu were only a few feet behind Jim but didn't hassle him any more, especially once Sulu slipped the offending reading material into his carry-on bag. It wouldn't do for Jim to be recognized now - it might make them late for their flight.

Once on board, Leonard refused the window seat, figuring he didn't need a clear view of his impending doom when things went wrong. Jim, of course, loved to fly and was watching raptly out the window as the ground crew prepared the plane. Meanwhile, Leonard fumbled through his carry-on to find the pills.

Eventually Jim tore himself away from the window and watched Leonard as he took his tablet and sat back, gripping the arms of the seat. "Wow, Bones. You really don't like to fly, do you?" Jim asked softly, with more compassion than Leonard was expecting.

While Sulu busied himself with some paperwork (or pretended to in order to give Leonard a modicum of privacy - either way the doctor wasn't going to complain), Jim leaned in and started speaking quietly to Leonard about anything that crossed his mind.

Even with the anti-anxiety medication, Leonard still found his heart leaping into his throat as the force of the plane speeding down the runway for take-off pressed him back in his seat. However, he couldn't dwell on it for long because suddenly there was an annoying poking of his left should that Just. Wouldn't. Stop.

"What?" he managed to bark out, although he wasn't fooling anyone.

"Bones, you weren't listening to me," Jim said. "I asked you a question. Who would win in a fight: Thor or Superman? It's a tough question. I mean, they're both aliens."

"Really, Jim?" Leonard said incredulously.

"That's not an acceptable answer," the young chef said.

Leonard finally managed to get his brain to focus on Jim's stupid question, and all of the stupid questions the kid came up with after that. He'd never figured out exactly how Jim's mind worked, and he probably never would. Still, Jim looked pretty satisfied at Leonard's surprised face as they landed in Atlanta, the doctor too distracted by the conversation to notice the passage of the flight.

"Thanks," Leonard muttered quietly as they gathered up their things.

"No problem, Bonesy," Jim said just as quietly, giving Leonard's shoulder a squeeze as they filed off the plane. For as much as the chef could act like a child, Leonard was reminded that Jim was a remarkably astute adult when he wanted to be. Somehow, that made Jim's stream of distracting questions all the more touching.

Forty minutes later, the three men had gathered their luggage and keys to a rental car and were heading out the terminal doors to catch the bus to the car rental lot when a couple of quick flashes of light caught their attention.

"Hey, Jim, how does it feel to have a Michelin star?" someone shouted. Leonard felt Jim freeze beside him and looked up to find a small group of photographers huddled together near the doors.

They were paparazzi.

Perfect, because this day just couldn't get any better.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Aside from the small crowds in the studio when Jim filmed his show, it wasn't often that they came across reminders of Jim's celebrity status. To Leonard, he was just Jim, the gregarious chef who bulldozed his way into Leonard's life a year ago and had made himself at home. Now Leonard couldn't imagine his life without Jim in it - not that he would ever tell him that. To see photographers stalking his friend at the airport, though, was a jolt of reality.

His gaze quickly flicked to Jim. Although they had sorted through some of Jim's anxieties yesterday, Jim had refused to think much about the Michelin star. Leonard worried what Jim's reaction would be, whether he was mentally prepared for this question.

He needn't have worried. Jim flashed his winning smile and slowed down in front of the group. "It feels great. We haven't had a chance to celebrate it yet, but we will."

"What's next for you?" another voice called out.

"To get back in the kitchen and keep on doing what we've been doing," Jim answered.

"What are you going to do to celebrate?" another asked.

Jim laughed, but Leonard could tell it was fake. "There are a lot of people who helped me get here. I'm sure we'll figure out something."

The chef's posture was becoming tense, so it was to Leonard's relief that Sulu sensed it too and stepped in. "Sorry, guys, but we've got to go. We're on a schedule." With that, he turned and started walking away.

Voices continued to shout questions, but Jim just threw a quick wave over his shoulder and let Leonard and Sulu lead him away.

Suddenly one of the voices called, "Hey, Bones. Are you excited for Jim or what?"

Leonard froze on the sidewalk, feeling his anger flaring. These people didn't know when to stop. Jim must have seen that the doctor was gearing up for a rant in his defense and quickly cut in, shouting back: "Hey, only I get to call him Bones." It sounded good-natured, but Leonard could tell that Jim was annoyed.

Thankfully the shuttle arrived moments later and the three men boarded the empty bus. "You know, you're going to have to do some press for this," Sulu told Jim matter-of-factly as he checked his phone.

Jim sighed and dropped his head back against the window. "I know," he said quietly.

"Does he really have to?" Leonard grumbled to Sulu, watching as Jim seemed to wilt under the added burden.

Jim was the one who cut in. "Sulu's right, Bones. I've got to do some interviews. It's how the game works."

The doctor decided to sulk on Jim's behalf and had worked up a good internal rant by the time they reached their car. He managed to keep it to himself on the drive to the hotel, not wanting to add any more to Jim's stress levels.

In Atlanta, Leonard was staying at a downtown hotel until Jim's show taped, then he'd go to his mother's house for a few days. This time he had a room of his own ... because he'd be having a guest.

"Daddy!" Joanna cried the moment he opened the door, only minutes after arriving himself.

"Hi there, Sweetheart," he said, hugging his daughter. Jo had grown some lately; she stood well past his waist now.

After a long hug with Jo, happy to have her in his arms again, he stood and kissed his mother on the cheek. "Thanks for bringin' her over, Mama," he said. "I wasn't expectin' you just yet."

"Well, someone heard there was a pool in the hotel, so we headed out as soon as we saw your flight had landed," she laughed, brushing his hair back just like she had when he was a child. Now, though, it was a bit of a reach for her.

Joanna jumped up and down. "Please, Daddy, can we go swimming now?"

Leonard laughed. "Give me a few minutes, Sweetheart, and then we can go."

"Yay!" Jo said with a dramatic jump backward onto the bed not occupied by Leonard's luggage.

"Bones, do you have a second..." Jim said, charging through the connecting door between their rooms, not noticing the extra people until he looked up from his paperwork and saw Leonard's mother. "Oh, never mind, you've got company," he said quickly, making to back out of the room.

But Joanna wasn't going to let her Uncle Jim off the hook so easily. With two steps and a flying leap, she threw herself into her favorite uncle's arms. "JIM!"

"Joanna!" Leonard called in vain, trying to keep Jo from making Jim drop everything in her excitement. However, Jim managed to shift everything to one hand and hug Joanna with the other.

"Joanna-Banana, how's my Bones Junior?" The girl giggled at being compared to her father.

Hearing a deeper chuckle, Jim looked up to see Bones standing beside his mother. Clearing his throat, Jim stood up and held out his hand. "Mrs. McCoy, it's nice to finally meet you in person."

"Likewise," Mrs. McCoy said, taking Jim's hand firmly. To his surprise, she then leaned in and gave him a warm hug. "But call me Mrs. McCoy again and you're out on your ear, Mister," she joked. "It's Eleanor."

"Yes, Ma'am," he answered, feeling a bit like he was back in school under scrutiny of one of his teachers. However, he could tell 'ma'am' wasn't going to fly, either, based on the knowing raised eyebrow on the woman's face. Ah, so that's where Bones got it from.

After promises to see each other at the taping and a subsequent vacation at the McCoy home, Leonard saw his mother off, then got ready to take Joanna swimming in the hotel pool while the others in the group got to work.

When Leonard and Joanna returned to their room an hour later reeking of chlorine, they found that Sulu and Jim were out at an appearance, Spock and Nyota were hard at work preparing for their final taping, and Scotty was out assessing the whisky options available in Atlanta.

The crew headed out to the restaurant together. While they waited for Jim and Sulu to arrive, Leonard watched, amused, as Joanna chattered away at Nyota. Bless her heart, Nyota seemed just as amused as he was and doted on his daughter. Joanna hadn't been able to stop talking about Nyota since they first met, and Leonard had to admit he was hard-pressed to think of a better role model for his little girl.

Jim plopped down in a seat next to Leonard a few minutes later. "Bones," he said quietly, "You and Jo didn't have to eat with us. We all know you want to spend time with her."

Leonard turned to Jim with a raised eyebrow. The chef shrugged self-consciously. "You know, flying out to Chicago like you did was more than anyone's ever done for me, Bones. You should take the time you want with Jo now."

If Jim's insecurities were still welling up this badly, he must still be stressed. "Jim," Leonard said patiently, "We both want to see everyone. Now shut up and look at the menu so we can order. I get grumpy when I'm hungry."

"Wow, you must always be hungry," Jim muttered as he opened his menu.

After ordering, the group chatted away, asking Leonard about Atlanta and teasing him about his stronger accent now that he was home. Jim was surprisingly quiet. Leonard watched him out of the corner of his eye but didn't bring it to anyone's attention.

Ten minutes later, Jim's phone suddenly rang. Leonard wanted to chastise him for having his phone on in the restaurant, but he saw Jim shrug as he looked at the caller ID and rose from the table to take the call. Leonard looked to Sulu for answers, but Sulu also shrugged.

The server delivered their food. Leonard could see Jim pacing in the glass foyer, scrubbing the back of his head as he spoke. At first Leonard waited to catch Jim's eye and wave him over, but eventually hunger caught up with him. Nyota, catching on to what Leonard was thinking, gracefully stood and approached the window. Leonard could see her tilt her head and could imagine the raised eyebrow. Jim raised a finger to show he would be finished in a minute before going back to messing up his hair.

Nyota sighed as she sat down. "Two minutes. That's all he gets."

Leonard was just getting ready to set aside his napkin and haul Jim back to the table himself when he saw the chef lower his arm and stare at his phone for a minute before sighing and then re-entering the restaurant. He looked apprehensive as he sat down in front of his rapidly-cooling food.

"So, who was that?" Nyota asked as everyone else at the table stopped eating to look at Jim.

Jim sighed. He looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him right then.

"Jim," Spock prodded.

The chef sighed. "It was the New York Times," he mumbled.

"What?!"

"That's great!"

"Really? They didn't call me first?" Sulu added, somewhat disgruntled.

"What did they ask you about?" Nyota asked Jim, digging back into her meal.

Jim shrugged like a petulant teenager being asked about school. "Just about the restaurant and the Michelin star and stuff."

The others continued to ask questions but it was clear that Jim was only answering them out of politeness. "Guys, let the poor man eat," Leonard finally cut in.

Jim flashed Leonard a small smile of gratitude and put down his head. He slowly picked at his meal, but it was easy to see that his mind was somewhere else.

"Is your dinner cold?" Leonard asked Jim quietly after watching him play with his dinner for a while.

Jim sighed a small sigh, unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't looking straight at him. "Nah. Just thinking."

Leonard sighed a sigh of his own. Jim's mind was a busy place. He was nearing his breaking point, and something was going to give soon. Seeing that Joanna was engrossed in one of Scotty's more age-appropriate stories, he leaned in toward Jim. "Tomorrow's the show and then you can relax at my mom's house for a while."

Jim stared at his plate for a moment longer. "Are you sure, Bones? I don't want to intrude on your family time. I know you don't get home much."

"Nonsense, Jim. We wouldn't've invited you if we didn't want you there," Leonard told him. "You don't even have to hang out with us. Sleep all day if you want. It's your vacation. Use it to take a breather."

A slight nod was the only acknowledgement Jim gave of Leonard's words. The doctor returned to his meal and let Jim have some time in his own little world. Seriously, if he even met Jim's mother, he was going on a rant to end all rants – only because he would never raise his hand against a woman.

In the parking garage upon their return to the hotel, Joanna skipped ahead from her place at Leonard's side to grab Jim's hand and start chattering away, telling him all about how she would show him the best tree to climb and the best place to read at her grandma's house. Leonard felt content as he watched Jim talk to Joanna, finally losing some of the slump of his shoulders. They were like two peas in a pod - no doubt about that. He was slightly afraid of the time when they would (inevitably) become partners in crime.

Back at the hotel, everyone went their separate ways. Jim didn't even notice he had sighed, feeling strangely empty, as the McCoys' hotel room door shut until he felt a hand on his elbow. He looked down to see Nyota looking softly at him. Spock was the only other person in the hallway.

"We were just about to go check out the hotel bar," she told him. "Come join us."

At first Jim opened his mouth to make excuses, but then thought about how long it had been since he had hung out with his crew just as friends. "All right," he said eventually. Nyota beamed at him.

The bar in their hotel was a fairly dim, non-descript affair that they wouldn't remember a week from now. Generic jazz played over speakers mounted in the corners, and only a couple of other patrons sat in there. Both looked like businessmen travelling alone: one sat at a table playing with his phone, while the other sat at the bar telling the bartender all about his business while the bartender pretended to be interested.

Drinks in hand, Jim sat with his friends and idly studied his glass while Nyota and Spock discussed their plans to visit her family after the tour. Eventually noticing the silence at the table, Jim looked up with a start to find Spock and Nyota watching him, the latter with a bemused smile on her face.

"I'll bet you're looking forward to relaxing at Case de McCoy for a few days," she said.

Jim looked back down, suddenly realizing he had paused too long.

"What is the matter, Jim? Were you not looking forward to "gathering blackmail material" on the doctor?" Spock asked, a frown crinkling his brow.

"Yeah," Jim said hesitantly.

Nyota tried to hide her sigh. She knew exactly what Kirk was thinking right now – his insecurities were raising their ugly heads again, making him worry that he would be in the way during his stay. "Jim," she said firmly. "Have you ever known Leonard to do anything he didn't want to do?"

Jim shrugged. "He didn't want to be on the show."

"The first time, yes. But he kept coming back. And taking care of you when you were sick. And harassing you at every opportunity. And hanging out with you and everyone else at the restaurant. It wasn't because anyone forced him to. He wants to."

But Jim refused to believe that anyone could be so accepting of him, of all people. "But he doesn't get to see Jo and his mom much. I don't want to intrude."

Nyota scooted over and put her arm around Jim's shoulders. "He doesn't always get to see you much, either. All of the McCoys think you're the bee's knees, Jim. When you're good friends with someone, their presence is never an intrusion." Sometimes, much to her chagrin, Jim needed to have these things spelled out for him.

Jim sighed. "Okay."

Nyota could tell he wasn't convinced, but he was thinking. It was the best she could hope for. "Now are you going to buy me a shot of Jack after that pep talk, or do I have to get it myself?" she asked.

~o~O~o~

Jim found himself actually excited about the taping of the Atlanta show. Yes, it was the last show to film for a while, but more importantly, all of his favorite people were there.

There were also some not-so-favorites. Earlier in the day, Jo had been regaling them with tales of classmates who had tickets to the show. The talk on the playground all week had been about how the girls in Jo's class (and their mothers) thought Jim was cute. Leonard figured there were worse people the pre-teen girls could have a crush on. At the moment, he just couldn't think of who that might be.

Apparently, Dina Alexander had been sooooo jealous when Joanna had been on Jim's show in an earlier series. Now Dina and her mom had gotten tickets to the Atlanta show, and suddenly she was trying to be Jo's best friend because she and her mom wanted introductions.

"She's so stupid and mean. She keeps telling me that her mom thinks dad is cute and how we're going to be sisters. Please promise me that will never happen. It would be the worst thing EVER," Jo said, bouncing on her toes in front of her father and pleading with everything she had. Jim had to laugh at Bones' consternation.

Meanwhile, Bones sought to ease his daughter's worry. "Don't you worry, sweetheart. You don't have to talk to Dina at the taping if you don't want to." Jim made a mental note to merely give a polite smile and nod to the mother/daughter duo. After all, he was firmly on Team Joanna.

Jim grinned as he stood behind the counter on stage, lights shining down on him, as he waited the last few moments before taping began. Joanna and Eleanor sat directly in front of him in the first row. Jo was making faces at her father, who stood beside Jim. Bones was returning the favor, albeit with slightly more dignity, but only very slightly more.

The theme music played and Jo bounced with excitement in her seat. As soon as it music ended, Jim announced, "Today we're in Atlanta, but I'm not going to cook any Southern food because inevitably I would fail to do it right and then I'd be told off in stereo by several generations of McCoys."

A couple of indignant "Heys!" came from the front row, while a muttered, "Damn straight" came from his left. Jim was pleased. Things were off to an excellent start.

Planning this show hadn't been easy. He wasn't too proud to admit to himself that he didn't know Southern food well enough to do it justice. The answer had come to him the last time he was at Bones' house before he left on tour. He would do breakfast for dinner, just like the first real meal he had ever cooked for his friend after the doctor had let him stay over to recover from an allergic reaction. "It's the best kind of meal ever!" he told the audience, launching into the day's recipes.

He was pretty sure Bones picked up on this nod to their friendship, too.

The show ended up being a genuine pleasure to tape. Jim found himself making an association to good times and people who cared with each dish he made, and for the first time in a long time he remembered why he loved the kitchen and enjoyed making a TV show. His joy was evident to all who watched. It was contagious, and even Bones ended up showing a genuine smile – when not hurling abuse at Jim, of course.

At the end of the show, as the audience applauded, Jim slapped McCoy on the back while the doctor rolled his eyes, arms firmly crossed in front of him. The chef managed to drag his doctor-not-a-sidekick to the front of the stage and took a bow. McCoy stood beside him, watching, and asked, "Are you done yet?" But there was a sparkle in the man's eye that let Jim know he was proud of him.

The meet-and-greet afterward was interesting. Joanna had given Jim a big hug, and to his surprise, Eleanor had done the same. Then they had retreated to the back of the stage with Bones while Jim smiled for fan selfies and awkwardly accepted hugs from his adoring fans.

The contingent from Jo's school was evident as several people gloated to Jim about how they were such good friends with the McCoys. He discovered that Jo hadn't been exaggerating about how vapid Dina Alexander and her mother were. He could see them coming a mile away and had gotten a serious nod of confirmation of their identities from Jo. Nyota was pretty sure she saw Mrs. Alexander hitch up her boobs before approaching Jim, and she kept looking over his shoulder at Leonard McCoy at the back of the stage. She made to get up on the stage, but Spock was ready with a firm hand to insist that no, Dr. McCoy was not part of the line-up today. Jim merely gave the duo a bland smile and posed for a photo before moving them along when they wanted to stop and chat. If Bones ever ended up with a woman like that, Jim would need to have a serious talk with his friend. The word 'intervention' would be used.

It appeared that at the end of the day, McCoy might have him beaten in the phone number/e-mail sweepstakes, but Jim didn't mind. It had been a good day.

So this is what contentment felt like.

~o~O~o~

After an excellent meal from the show's leftovers (Jim had made sure to prepare enough food for everyone), there was free-spirited laughter from the group as they cleaned up. Tomorrow, all but Jim and Bones would fly back home. After this final show was edited, it was vacation time for the show's crew. Having been away on tour for so long, they were all itching to get home.

Despite having been together for weeks, there were long good-byes as everyone left the studio. While the rest of the crew were staying at the hotel one more night, Jim and Bones were heading to the house Bones grew up in.

Jim gave Nyota a long hug as they were about to walk out the door. "Sorry you had to put up with me and my crap," he mumbled in her ear.

Nyota broke the hug and cupped Jim's chin in her hands, smiling. "We both know I could kick your ass if I needed to," she said sweetly. She was right – they both knew that. "But you also know I love you. Go have fun at Leonard's. Let them take care of you."

Seeing Jim's hesitation, Nyota spun him on his heel and pushed him toward the doorway with a firm, "Good-bye, Jim."

Jim headed uncertainly outside to where the McCoys were waiting for him, still convinced he would be intruding upon their precious time together. However, the smiles that lit up all of their faces at his appearance brought a smile to his own and propelled him forward. It felt nice to be wanted.

As it turned out, the McCoy residence was large and rather grand, a former plantation a ways outside of Atlanta. All Leonard had ever told Jim was that his mother had plenty of room for all of them, but Jim wasn't expecting a proper plantation house like people wrote about in period-piece novels. He was immediately led to his room and then settled on the back porch was a glass of sweet tea in his hand, Joanna next to him on the porch swing talking a mile a minute as they watched daylight fade to twilight.

"Sweetheart, let Jim just relax for a minute so he can get his bearings," Bones drawled as he followed Eleanor out the back door.

Usually a talkative person, Jim was, for once, happy to sit quietly. He could finally feel himself let go of all of the tension built up by weeks of work and travel. Seeing the white siding on the house sent Jim's mind back to the white siding of a dismal farmhouse in Iowa.

Lost in his thoughts, Jim didn't realize he had closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep until he felt someone shake his shoulder.

"Sorry," the doctor said, not appearing very sorry at all. "As quiet and un-obnoxious as you are when you're sleeping, you might be more comfortable in an actual bed."

Jim looked around. It was darker than he remembered, and he and Bones were the only ones left on the porch.

"Jo's in bed, and I think it's your bedtime, too," the doctor added.

Jim was still too muddled from sleep to think up a snappy comeback, so he wandered back into the house. He noticed Bones was following him. "You gonna tuck me in again?"

Leonard snorted. "No, I just thought I'd make sure you know where you're goin' so you're not wanderin' around the house all night."

Despite the size of the house, Jim managed to find his bedroom without trouble and was out within moments, still dressed and sprawled out on top of the covers.

The problem with falling asleep so early was that Jim found himself wide awake at 4:30 the next morning. Sighing, he resigned himself to getting up. He dug his laptop out of his bag and booted it up. However, when he went to check his e-mail and the browser opened with an error message, he realized he didn't have the password for the router. He sighed. He couldn't wake up Bones to ask. Of all the things for which one might wake up a friend in the middle of the night, this ranked pretty highly on the list of things which could result in a severe physical or verbal maiming.

He needed a fair bit of coffee before he could face that kind of peril. However, it was early and he didn't want to wake up his hosts, so Jim settled for working on some of his other projects.

Jim became so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice the time until laughter in the kitchen brought him back to the present. It was light outside, and from the voices coming from the kitchen, Jim guessed that everyone else was up. He put aside his laptop and jumped out of bed to go take a shower.

A few minutes later, Jim approached the kitchen and took in the scene. Joanna stood at the counter stirring something in a bowl. Bones reached over her for a box sitting farther back, while Eleanor was pulling a frying pan out of a bottom cabinet. Jim felt a momentary pang of longing; he'd never had domestic scenes like this in his life.

Bones noticed him first. "Mornin', Jim!" he called.

Joanna looked up and gave him a huge grin. "Hi, Sleepy-pants!"

"Jo!" both Eleanor and Leonard said. "That's not very nice," her father added. "…even if he did sleep in."

Bones looked up to grin at him, but it dimmed slightly when he took in Jim's face. Jim realized Bones must have been able to see his tired eyes.

"Come in and have a seat, dear," Eleanor said, suddenly appearing at his elbow. "Can I get you a cup of coffee?"

Jim paused for a moment. He realized he wasn't used to having someone fuss over him in such a nice way; Bones usually took a gruffer approach. What was he supposed to do in this sort of situation?

Eleanor seemed to pick up on Jim's indecision and led him to the breakfast bar. "You had better keep an eye on those two," she said with a wink. A moment later a cup of coffee appeared in front of Jim.

Jim was pretty sure that Bones had noticed his hesitation, but he didn't say a word. Jim was grateful. He leaned back and tried to sit unobtrusively. Some people got really uptight cooking for a professional chef. He didn't want any of the McCoys to think he was sitting there judging their food or their technique when he was simply grateful they were including him in this.

Soon they sat down to the first home-cooked Southern meal that Jim had ever eaten. It was amazing: biscuits and gravy, grits, and several other dishes he couldn't name. Eleanor talked him through the serving dishes on the table while Bones and Joanna added in their two cents whenever possible, Joanna mostly contributing how yummy or disgusting something was. Bones laughed and ruffled her hair as he sat back. Jim had never seen him so relaxed before.

Meanwhile, Jim had never felt so much a part of a family before.

That afternoon, he was given a grand tour of the area by the whole family. When Joanna begged for ice cream, Jim joined in her pleading until Bones had no choice but to roll his eyes and give in. As punishment, he made Jim pay, but the chef didn't mind.

After the best night's sleep he'd had in a while, the next day Jim begged off going out in favor of work. "You sure?" Bones asked quietly as Eleanor and Joanna scurried around getting ready to leave.

"Yeah, Bones," Jim said with a smile that probably wasn't as wide as it should have been. The moment the door closed behind the McCoys, Jim felt a pang of sadness as he stood in the silent, empty house, looking out at a lush back yard and contemplated the never-ending race that was his life.

Reluctantly he moved to the couch and opened up his laptop to dive into work; it wasn't going to finish itself. Usually Jim was driven and focused, but today he kept finding his focus drifting away toward the house and the yard and the family that lived here. Feeling twitchy, Jim set aside the computer and started wandering around the house.

In the front hallway, he struck gold. Why hadn't he noticed this treasure trove before? Lining the walls were photos of Bones and his family from childhood onward. The absence of a wedding photo was conspicuous, but then Jim grinned when he saw the photo he had taken of Bones and Joanna with the birthday cake at his restaurant a few months ago. As a testament to his stress, it took another moment to notice that it was the one that Gaila had snapped with him making rabbit ears behind Bones.

Before he would allow himself to get choked up about someone's mother including his picture on their wall, he found himself laughing out loud. In a jiffy, Jim retrieved his phone from his room and quickly worked his way down the hallway snapping photos. Bones as a grumpy (or gassy) baby. Bones with chubby cheeks, toddling around in the grass. Bones posed for a school photo, his two front teeth missing. Bones standing with a soccer ball under one arm. Bones as an awkward teenager with floppy hair. Bones in cap and gown, his parents and sister at his side.

Then there was Bones in what must have been his early 20s, his med school days. He was standing on a dirt path, wearing a flannel shirt over jeans and a t-shirt. But best of all, Bones had chin-length hair. BONES HAD LONG HAIR.

Funny, Bones had somehow forgotten to mention that he had long hair at one point in his life. Had Christmas just come early for Jim?

This was too precious. There was enough black-mail material here to last him a while.

Jim was still chuckling to himself when the McCoys arrived back home. "Bones, why didn't you tell me you were sporting the grunge look back in the 90s?" he exclaimed as soon as everyone had reached the living room.

While everyone else began laughing, Leonard hid his face in his hands and muttered, "I was really hoping you wouldn't notice those photos."

"Hey, I didn't say it was a bad look," Jim said with mock concern. "You really worked it."

"I hate all of you," the doctor grumbled as he left the room in a pretend huff, laughter following him into the kitchen.

Eleanor walked up to Jim, her eyes dancing. "I've got photos albums if you have any spare time while you're here," she told him.

"I will make time," Jim vowed.

"Still hate you," Leonard called from the kitchen.

~o~O~o~

Soon the boys were out in the backyard playing soccer with Jo while Eleanor started dinner. At one point, Jim had begged off to get a glass of water.

The soccer match had ended a while ago amid allegations of cheating (wholly denied but true nonetheless) from both sides. Now Leonard stood leaning against a tree as Joanna spun around, twisting and untwisting the ropes attaching the swing to the tree. So far there hadn't been any pinched fingers.

The sun was starting to dip lower into the sky. Where was Jim? It had obviously been a while since he had gone inside. It took Leonard only a moment to make an educated guess. "Come on, sweetheart," he called to Joanna. "I'll bet dinner's nearly ready."

Jo grumbled about having her outdoor time cut short but skipped alongside her father into the house, one hand holding his much larger one. Leonard headed straight for the kitchen. Sure enough, Jim and his mother were huddled over the stove, the chef intent as he listened to Eleanor explain something or other.

They were so focused on their cooking that they didn't notice they were being watched. He was happy to see that his mother had taken such a shine to Jim. Goodness knows the kid needed some parental guidance, not to mention Jim Kirk was an absolute nerd about cooking in the same way some people memorized car stats or comic book characters.

Leonard chuckled to himself as Jim pushed something to the side. It was a notebook. The kid had been taking notes!

~o~O~o~

40 minutes earlier

Jim quietly closed the patio door behind him. He'd give Bones and Jo a little time to play together without him. Wanting a drink of water, he headed for the kitchen.

Eleanor stood chopping something at the cutting board and throwing it into a hot frying pan. It took only a moment to identify onions. Clearing his throat as he walked in, Jim grabbed a glass and filled it with cold water.

"What are you making?" he asked, moving out of the way so Eleanor could wash her hands.

"It's a green bean casserole that Leonard loves," she said. "Once that's in the oven, I have to get cracking on the rest of dinner."

Jim could feel himself being drawn toward the stove. "Need any help?"

"Only if you want to," she said with a smile. "You're welcome to just keep me company, if you'd rather. I hear that you feed my son quite regularly."

Jim shrugged shyly. "It's the one thing that I'm good at."

"Nonsense, sweetheart," said Eleanor kindly as she stirred the onions. She set her spoon next to the stove and turned to Jim. "I don't care if you burn water when you try to boil it. You've been a good friend to my son, and I can't thank you enough for that."

She turned her attention back to the sizzling pan. "Leonard was absolutely distraught after he was divorced. I understand why he took a job all the way across the country, but oh, Jim, did I worry about him being out there all on his own. He didn't know anyone, there was no family close by, and all he did was work. But then he went on your TV program, and I haven't had to worry so much since you two boys have become friends. You don't know what a relief it is to know that someone is looking out for him."

Jim swallowed. He should say something, but he didn't know what to say after such a heart-felt statement. Finally, he blurted out: "How come he's so grumpy when you're so nice?"

He worried that Eleanor might take offense, but she just laughed. "He's been a bit grumpier since the divorce, but he gets most of it from his father, I'm afraid."

Jim shrugged. "As much as he barks, he doesn't usually bite. He's just gooey marshmallow inside."

This time Eleanor started laughing so hard she actually doubled over. "Don't let him hear you say that."

"I said it to him not long after we met. I think he was annoyed that I blew his cover," he admitted.

"Oh, Jim," Eleanor said, wiping away a tear as she chuckled. "Never change."

Jim watched as Eleanor dumped the sautéed onions into a baking dish with green beans and a freshly-made sauce, then popped it all in the oven.

"I don't suppose you would be willing to show me how to cook some Southern dishes, would you?" he asked her shyly. "Southern cuisine is one of my weak points."

"Of course, dear," she said, beckoning him toward the stove. "But only if you'll show me later how you manage to chop things so quickly without losing your fingers. Now, are you familiar with collard greens?"

When Bones and Jo wandered into the kitchen a little while later, Jim had a page full of notes and was cooking Southern food like he was born to it.

The daily cooking lessons became a ritual for Jim and Eleanor for the rest of his stay. Before he and Leonard left to return home, he cooked a meal for the entire family. It was Southern food, and, of course, it was all made to perfection … just like Mama made.

~o~O~o~

It was Monday morning, which for Jim Kirk meant a rare day off. He'd been exhausted at the end of the tour for his television show. If it hadn't been for the brief vacation at McCoy Mansions, Jim wasn't sure how he would even be able to drag himself out of bed right now.

He had so much to do. In a way, he felt like he was running a race on a treadmill - never making any progress forward. Still, it was nice to be back in the kitchen and running the show at Enterprise again. It felt a bit like home, at least as much as any place ever did. Sulu had agreed to cut back on his appearances for a while and was screening reporters' calls so that Jim only had to do a few well-placed interviews. Plus, he'd managed to produce passable columns and a blog post in between services this week.

After delaying the start of his day over a leisurely second cup of coffee, Jim sighed and finally forced himself to get to work. At the top of his to-do list was the gigantic pile of paper that was the manuscript of his cookbook. He had been putting off dealing with this for too long.

"Damn it, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a food critic!" Leonard had complained when he had dumped the heavy manuscript onto Jim's desk at the restaurant one evening while on his way to work the night shift at the hospital.

"I'm sure it's fine, Bones," Jim had said as he patted the man on the back and sent him out the door with a three-course dinner in take-away containers. Then he had stuffed the bundle of papers in his bag and hadn't given it much thought since.

Jim took a moment to admire the cover art: a middle finger flipping him off and a bad drawing of what was supposed to be Jim and a label with an arrow pointing to the drawing reading 'Captain Perfect Hair' in Scotty's nearly-illegible scrawl. It was a good start.

Flipping through the text, Jim's grin grew bigger and bigger with each passing page as Leonard's notes became angrier and angrier. Suddenly Jim felt lighter than he had in a while. Bones had come through for him: He'd found his missing ingredient. As far as he was concerned, this project was done.

~o~O~o~

One evening just after Thanksgiving, Leonard was relaxing on the couch with a beer after a long day on his feet. He was too tired to move, so he sprawled out and stared at the colorful lights on the small Christmas tree that Jim had badgered him into setting up. His mother had mailed him a box of ornaments, some of which he remembered from his childhood and others glittery, gluey messes that Joanna had made over the years. Even though the tree was only a couple of feet tall, he had to admit that the tinsel and colorful lights added a certain amount of cheer to the room.

A dark rectangular shape under the tree caught his eye. Curious, he got up to see what it was.

"BONES, OPEN ME NOW!" was written on it in a familiar hand. Somehow, Jim managed to be annoying even in writing. Below that, written in smaller letters, was one word: "Thanks."

Leonard plopped himself back down on the couch and contemplated the wrapping paper covered in penguins wearing Santa hats. It felt like a book. Figuring it was safe, Leonard tore at the paper.

Inside was a copy of Jim's new cookbook. Leonard was pretty sure that it wasn't in bookstores until next week. On the cover was Jim in the studio kitchen, looking happy amidst a spread of food and fresh ingredients. He had obviously made sure to wear a shirt that brought out the blue in his eyes. Leonard snorted: He was pretty sure that half of the people who bought this book were buying it for the pictures rather than the recipes.

Still, when he had teased Jim about selling the cookbook with a nice photo on the cover, Jim had growled in a terrible impression of a Southern accent, "Damn it, Bones. I'm a chef, not a movie star."

Leonard flipped through to the introduction. It didn't take long to notice that unlike many cookbooks, Jim's said nothing about fond childhood memories in the kitchen or how certain recipes reminded him of his mother. It was as though Jim hadn't existed until he left Iowa for the wider world. Maybe Jim Kirk really hadn't.

Leonard was once again grateful that his mother had been so willing to dote on Jim while they had been home. Lord knows the kid had needed it. Curious to see what had made Jim suddenly decide that the cookbook was finished, Leonard began paging through.

"Dammit, Jim!" he growled even though he knew that the chef was nowhere nearby. Beside each recipe, in a red, faux-handwriting font, were the comments he had written in the margin of the giant manuscript. They hadn't been intended for general consumption, but he had said what he had popped into his head while reading. The brat had deserved those comments. At least he'd had the sense to leave off the picture that Leonard had drawn of a hand flipping him off.

'Tumeric? What the hell is that? What does a tumeric look like as it forages in the wild?'

'Good God, man! Have you seen how many recipes for red meat you included? Are you trying to kill off everyone out there before you release your next cookbook?'

'Celery? Why do you chefs always use recipes that call for one stalk of celery? Not everyone feeds a couple hundred people each night. Us mere mortals have to buy an entire bunch of celery that we'll never eat unless we suddenly adopt a herd of rabbits. What the hell are we supposed to do with the rest of the celery?'

'Really? This recipe? Cardiology is on the sixth floor. I'll meet you there, shall I?'

'Who besides a professional chef has ever heard of a quince or orzo? Not everyone can just pop down to their food supplier and pick up a pickled pig's ass or whatever crazy things you idiots cook with.'

Jim had also kept in the notes the crew had scribbled back and forth with Leonard during breaks in travel and taping:

'What do you mean, men aren't vegetarians? Jim, your studio director is a vegetarian.'

'Yeah, and he gets crabby a lot.'

'I think it's you, Jim, not the vegetarianism.'

'I agree with Dr. McCoy - he is also often 'crabby' with you and he is not a vegetarian. You are the common denominator in this equation, Jim.'

'Please don't agree with me, Spock. It makes me uncomfortable.'

'Likewise, Doctor.'

'Why do you have Southern recipes in here? You're not from the South.'

'Yeah, but Bones, your mom taught me these. You wouldn't disparage your mom's cooking, would you? *Bones' mom shakes her head in agreement with Jim*'

'*Bones grumbles and gives in*'

Feeling a sense of impending doom, Leonard flipped to the title page. It was worse than he had feared: 'By Jim Kirk, with more-than-occasional sniping and complaining by Leonard McCoy'.

Leonard grabbed his phone. Even though Jim was in the middle of dinner service, he had voicemail. Leonard planned on making full use of the technology; Jim wouldn't know what hit him.

Leonard impatiently waited for the end to Jim's cheery voicemail message before launching straight into, "Damn it, Jim! Really? Sniping? I'll show you something to complain about..."

~o~O~o~

It was late by the time Jim had finished the dinner service at Enterprise and the kitchen had been cleaned up. He was bone-tired but satisfied with the night - it was nice to be back in the kitchen nearly full-time.

He stepped through to the darkened dining room and stood for a few moments watching the quiet street outside through the plate glass windows at the front of the restaurant. The framed notice of his Michelin star, hung on the wall behind Gaila's station, reflected back some of the street lights from outside. Even after several years, Jim sometimes had to remind himself that this restaurant belonged to him – that all of this was his creation. Taking a deep breath, he felt himself calming down after the intensity of the past several hours.

The fluorescent lights in the deserted kitchen felt harsh in the quiet hours of the night. Or was it morning by now? Jim ducked into the side closet where the staff all kept their aprons and chef's whites and quickly changed into street clothes. He was wearing a t-shirt that Bones had bought him that read, "The Captain is always right … and I am the Captain." Jim had made the mistake of wearing the shirt to a production meeting a few weeks ago, and now the crew all called him 'Captain'. The amount of derision that Nyota could pack into that one word was truly impressive.

Jim absently pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket as he gave the restaurant one more quick check before closing up for the night. There were a couple of missed calls and one voice mail. Jim found himself hoping it was Bones that had left a voice mail rather than another reporter.

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long to find out. No sooner had the automatic voice told him what time the message had been left than he was met with, "Damn it, Jim! Really? Sniping? I'll show you something to complain about..."

A couple of text messages had continued the rant where the voice mail message had ended. No one could do angry, ranting text messages like Bones.

Jim couldn't help but throw his head back and laugh with a tired giddiness. Bones had found his Christmas present. His reaction was everything Jim had hoped for, warming the cockles of his weary little heart. He couldn't have been more pleased.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Bones," he chuckled to himself. Then he turned off the lights in Enterprise's kitchen and headed home.

FIN.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim's t-shirt is a real shirt that I've seen in several locations related to the sea, and my mind immediately associates it with him. You can probably find it for sale on-line if you don't live near a coast. Also, I'm totally picturing Karl Urban around the time of Lord of the Rings for the long-haired photo. I wonder what he makes of that look now...

**Author's Note:**

> * If anyone is interested in reading a humorous account of Michelin stars and the team of Michelin inspectors, check out the relevant chapter in Peter Mayle's book 'Bon Appetit'.


End file.
